In The Beginning
by Late2SGA
Summary: The Team arrives on a world in the relative cool of night only to discover there's something waiting in the dark... Takes place S1, between Thirty-Eight Minutes and Suspicion. Team fic. The Team plus Weir.


~ In The Beginning ~

Author's Note: This story takes place just after Thirty-Eight Minutes, very soon after they arrived in Atlantis, before they're organized or 'have a feel' for what is happening at the galactic level in Pegasus.

Another Author's Note follows the story.

Word Count: 9502

Characters: Sheppard, Rodney, Ford, Teyla, Weir. Brief appearances by Beckett, Bates and Markham. Sort of Grodin.

Rating: K+/T- ... for very brief descriptions of... um, bloodiness.

Warning: Vague references to events in the first few episodes.

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"Well, this is interesting," John Sheppard remarked dryly. "Tell me again what we're expecting from this planet?"

Sheppard was one of an interested group in the Control Room, peering at what was supposedly video being transmitted by the MALP ~ the screen was very dark.

"It's a simple matter to use night vision," Rodney McKay huffed impatiently. He tapped a couple keys and the screen lightened to grainy shades of green and grey.

"Oh, well that makes it much better," Sheppard drawled.

Elizabeth Weir waited patiently. "Let's not discount this yet. That bit of information Rodney found after I made those translations could lead somewhere. 'Power' could mean ZPMs or other kinds of research." She turned to Sheppard and raised her brows in question. "Perhaps a way to defend Atlantis?"

Some screen images were vaguely geometric in shape, which indicated manufactured components not found in nature. A wide pan of the area revealed numerous shapes of various sizes and distances, including tall forms that might have been supports.

"It could've been a town, sir," Lieutenant Ford suggested.

"Perhaps the stargate was inside a building," Teyla added. "Some of those objects are very close."

"Too close for Jumpers," Sheppard stated. "Telemetry?"

McKay checked his computer. "No life signs." He tapped more keys. "Viable conditions. Breathable atmosphere, although it's thirty-one degrees and humidity-"

"Eighty-eight at night? Any guess on daytime temperatures?"

McKay glared at Sheppard's interruption. "Considering the lack of information in the Database and not knowing anything about the planet's orientation or the solar system or the length of days and nights, the answer's obviously 'no', Major." He looked back at the screen. "I'm reading a fair amount of ambient light."

"I thought Ancient stuff pretty much lasted forever," Sheppard commented as he continued to eye the indistinct video. "This rubble could be anybody's, not necessarily Ancients'."

McKay countered, "I can think of several reasons this is Ancient yet rubble: the site wasn't designed to be permanent; the site was attacked and destroyed or the Ancients destroyed it themselves; the site was abandoned and scavenged. Or," he paused, "the site pre-dates their development of 'lasts forever' materiel." He finished smugly, "It could pre-date the war with the Wraith."

"So, this might be a significant historical find," Weir mused.

Sheppard signaled his interest. "We'll do a scout-around in the relative cool of night. If it's worth investigating, we'll set up teams and schedules after we know more about the planet."

Weir nodded, giving her official consent. "Thirty minutes?"

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

The view in person wasn't much clearer in the blue shimmer from the Puddle. John studied the space in front of the Gate. The surface under his feet was tile ~ flooring, not rough outdoor stone. What remained of walls indicated interior purpose. Some remnants of the edifice lay on the floor, but the kawoosh had obliterated much of the objects, defying any attempt to identify the pieces. The destruction of those segments in front of the Gate was not new, so there had been prior visitors to the planet.

John ducked under a column that had fallen at an angle to form a kind of archway with other toppled supports.

McKay was looking at the handscanner. At the edge of the tiled platform he turned one way, then the other. He wiped his brow and frowned at John. "We should have brought a Jumper."

"We discussed this. Won't fit." Been there, done that, and John didn't want to do it again. Markham's first experience in a Jumper had made him so gun-shy that John hadn't pushed to get the man back into the pilot's seat for further lessons.

"We can do this fast, right?" McKay dried his hands on the front of his tee and used the fabric to wipe his tablet keyboard.

The faster, the better, John thought, tenting his t-shirt and pulling it like bellows. Hopes had been placed very high on this lead from what was almost the first thing they'd come across in the Database. John didn't think they'd be that lucky. A more systematic and selective approach when they had more information to make decisions would be a better use of mission time. On the other hand, sometimes luck played a role.

John joined Teyla next to the MALP. She was wearing one of her sleeveless shirts, but even she had to be feeling the heat. "You were right. Walls and floor are interior. Gate was inside."

"Not only inside," McKay concurred, "but inside a familiar layout. I'm reading something that appears to be very Lantean. Not a three-sixty circle with six branches, but a one-eighty with four." He swept his arm in a half-circle in front of him. "We're backed against a mountain, like a hemi-Atlantis."

"It's a city?" Ford inquired. He bent to pass under a support.

"Well, mini-version," McKay admitted.

The Gate shut down, leaving them all in sudden dimness that emphasized the electronic screen in McKay's hand. After a brief silence the nighttime sounds of nature commenced.

"Wait!" John ordered, before anyone could turn on a light. He looked up. The darkness of the crumbling walls framed a very bright, starry sky. The broken edges of the structure were alight, forming an outline of the entire complex. As McKay had stated, there was enough ambient light to navigate without nightgear.

"What is the source of the light?" Teyla asked.

"Looks like cold light," Ford answered. "Chemiluminescence."

John explained, "Chemical reaction. On Earth there are plants and critters that produce light via a chemical reaction." He touched a lighted edge. "Looks like some kind of lichen."

"Major. Come look at this," Ford called. He had taken the three steps from the platform to a lower level. When John arrived Ford pointed upward. "Look."

From a different perspective it was clear the pillars had toppled in one direction, not forming an archway but a slanted ceiling. "Are you thinking blast pattern?" John ventured.

"I don't know, sir. But it's strange."

To John it was all a little strange. He was new enough to the experience of Gate travel that he felt a bit like Alice Through The Looking-Glass, wondering what he'd find on the other side. Even with MALP data, each trip was still a crap shoot. "McKay, how big is this place?" The foot of the platform steps opened into a large hallway that went in either direction. The lichen-glow edges of the structure faded into distant darkness.

"As facilities go, huge." McKay took the steps blindly, his gaze fixed on the handscanner.

"Which way?" John asked, gesturing to the hall.

McKay looked both ways, then back at the scanner. "I'm getting something in this direction." He pointed to the right.

"ZPM?" Ford asked.

"No, but there's an energy reading of some kind."

The floor of the hallway was clear of plantlife, although dirt and debris had taken up occupation as the building fell into ruin. John walked along the outer wall and could see the silhouette of a forest, the dark treetops against the studded sky. Most of the hallway roof was gone, but it was still an impressive accomplishment. "How old? Ten thousand? A million?"

"Yes." McKay finally looked up from his handscanner when he felt John's steady gaze. "Look, it's old. I can't really tell with this thing." He held up the scanner. "Even if it isn't 'lasts forever' construction, it's still hard to date. I'd need better sensors to scan the landscape rather than the complex itself."

Ford, walking along the inner wall, called to Teyla to help him open a door. After a brief sweep with his P90 light, he turned from the doorway, shaking his head. "Empty room."

Teyla found the next door. Another empty ruin. Although the inner wall was more intact than the outer wall and many of the doors along the wall were whole, time had taken a toll.

"Why would Ancients all live in one place?" John asked as they ambled along. He watched Teyla and Ford peek into rooms.

McKay was tapping keys, looking between his tablet and handscanner screens. "What do you mean?"

"If Atlantis is the product of their perfected ATA and 'lasts forever' science, where are the early prototypes? And after who knows how many millennia of dropping off Gates and doing what Ancients do, they all fit in one city?" John lifted a brow.

McKay frowned as he spoke slowly, "You think there could be abandoned facilities all over the galaxy. You might as well ask for a list of where we can find a half-dozen ZedPMs."

John shrugged his shoulders. "Just sayin'. They go out and explore the galaxy for thousands of years and they all come home and live in a place the size of Manhattan. Weird."

"There's no ZedPM here," McKay said thoughtfully, "but there could be places where they developed the science."

"So, maybe a bunch of early facilities, up to and including early forms of ZPMs? Would there be some kind of traceable pattern? Could you find it?" John asked.

"You mean like SETI? I'd need to devise a filter to scope out-" McKay swatted at bugs and made a face. He was new to field work and hadn't had much training. John wasn't sure the man could even handle a handgun with all his other stuff.

They moved slowly down the hall. In some places the outer wall was nearly gone, providing a view of endless, dark forest. Nature had encroached only as far as the Ancient perimeter and then seemed to go no farther, as if unable to set down roots. Even the lichen only grew on the broken edges of the structure and not the smooth surface of the walls or floor.

Ford bent down and turned on his P90 light. "Sir, here."

John wasn't familiar with Wraith anatomy but he had seen the finger-guards and armbands Wraith wore. Next to a piece of Wraith jewelry was part of a femur. It looked human. Or Wraith. And it looked as if it had been gnawed.

John stood slowly and turned on his P90 light. The back of his neck tingled. The background chatter of birds and whir of insects suddenly ceased, a sign a predator had entered the area. John raised his P90 and readied his weapon. "McKay, life signs?"

"You don't trust the MALP?" The scientist made a show of sighing loudly and shifting and juggling the tablet and scanner before tapping keys on the small device. "We are the only ones here," he announced in exasperation. "There's nothing else."

"Oh, there's somethin' else," John drawled.

"Well, it's not showing up as humanoid," McKay countered disagreeably. "Of course there will be wildlife ~ rodents, bugs."

"Look for something else. Bigger."

McKay was still tapping keys. "I should be able to adjust the LSD to recognize a different type of biosig... Oh-no."

John stepped closer to look at the detector. Wordlessly McKay tilted the device to give John a clearer view. No individual life signs, instead a solid mass of dots blinked on the screen, indicating dozens of an unknown lifeform were approaching, and coming fast. "Ford, Teyla. Defensible space," John ordered quietly and waved his arm in the direction of the doors that lined the crumbling hallway. Teyla ran to the first door, Ford the next, to check room after room. "How big?" John demanded softly.

McKay tapped some more keys. "I can't tell. House cat?"

Similar in size but not in nature, John hoped. The everyday, average, domesticated feline was one of Earth's most efficient predators. John looked carefully into the wide-eyed blue stare. He reached down and drew McKay's sidearm from its holster and chambered a round, then handed over the weapon, wondering how well the brilliant astrophysicist was going to stand up under real fire. McKay's hand trembled on the grip.

John removed the LSD from McKay's slack grasp. The dots were close. John aimed his P90 into the woods beyond the ruined hall and began backing toward the inner wall, forcing McKay to follow his lead. The man had undergone only minimal weapons training ~ he aimed his handgun with his eyes closed.

"Over here!" Teyla shouted. She stood in front of a doorway and beckoned. "This room appears to be-"

She was hit by an airborne mass. Force of impact threw her face-first into the wall. She slid to the ground and lay still.

John checked the LSD; the dots were upon them. Objects were plunging from the sky, landing on their fallen teammate. John heard a scratching, growling sound. He grabbed McKay by the vest and shoved him toward Teyla. "Drag her inside!" John turned to fire his P90 skyward, but a blow to the shoulder nearly knocked him down. He struggled to rise under the weight of a squirming body that scampered onto his back and clawed at his neck over the edge of his vest. Sharp nails cut into his scalp. Another form landed at his feet and left a pain-filled trail as it tried to crawl up his leg but was stopped by John's forceful fist. McKay was under similar attack while leaning down to take hold of Teyla's ankles; he staggered under the onslaught.

John felt the rip of skin when he pulled away the beast at his neck. He threw the creature to the ground. Two shots with his Beretta, then he aimed his P90 at the mob near his feet. The light struck one creature full-face. The beast emitted a soft squeal and froze, as if overwhelmed by the blinding effect of light. The others nearby had a similar response, although not quite so still, not quite so confused nor stunned under the less intense light. John showed no mercy and fired his sidearm. He adjusted the P90 light for wider beam and shouted at Ford, "Use your light!"

Ford came running, firing his P90 in a broad pattern at the swell descending from the air. "Cover your eyes and ears, sir!"

John saw a brief glimmer of two small, metallic objects tossed gently into the air. He had only a second to race toward McKay and tackle him facedown, forming a pile atop Teyla.

Behind his closed lids John knew the brightness of the flash and felt the force of the blast, then he grabbed the stunned beast clamped onto McKay's neck and finally pulled his knife to loosen the embedded jaw. He threw the creature behind him and cut another stubborn beast from McKay's shoulder. John hauled McKay upright by the tac-vest loop and shouted directly in the man's ear to be heard over Ford's controlled P90 fire, "Get her inside!", then he joined the lieutenant.

The two men laid down coverfire, divided between the still-stunned beasts on the ground and the newly arriving creatures emerging from the dark night sky. John kept checking over his shoulder to monitor McKay's progress. "Ford, fall back!"

Step by reverse-step they crossed the threshold while maintaining fire. John forced the door closed, cutting off Ford's barrage and unintentionally trapping inside a creature that soon fell to the lieutenant's marksmanship. In the silent aftermath the men could hear determined scratching at the outside wall.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John directed his P90 light around the space. He stepped over Teyla's feet and walked to what looked like a console. Lights came on in the room when he touched the desk. "Interesting."

"That's the first sign of Ancient tech," McKay enthused. He was pale, sitting on the ground next to motionless Teyla. "This room could be a prototype for the development of ATA equipment inside a model of their 'lasts forever' construction. It makes sense. It's why this single room is still standing."

Ford looked up from where he was bandaging the scientist's neck. "Teyla's okay, but she's out cold."

The floor plan and decor of the room resembled the Ancient style, but the architecture was not immediately recognizable as Lantean. John took a tour of the room. No additional consoles or equipment powered on in his presence.

McKay scooted over and leaned against the console. He was panting from exertion and excitement. He took out his tablet. "There's still no sign of any ZedPM or other power source, so this supports my theory of a geothermal interface."

Ford finished tending to Teyla's scratches and approached John. "Sir?" He held out the minimal first-aid supplies.

John looked at the younger man, who was all but bare of any bloody marks. "What makes you so lucky?" He stood still while Ford applied antiseptic and small bandages.

"They don't like my hat. Or my hair."

John ruefully ran a hand through his sticky, bloody locks. "I'll have to think about a hat," he smiled crookedly.

When he'd finished swabbing the wounds Ford looked down at the dead beast at their feet. "What are those things?"

The two men squatted by the carcass. John used the muzzle of his handgun to manipulate the creature. The tail was bushy, like a squirrel's. There were also skin flaps the length of the animal's sides. "See this? Like a flying squirrel. They probably live in the forest and jump from the treetops."

"Like parasailing," Ford said. "I've never seen fur like that."

The coat was sleek and dark. "Like a bat."

"What?! I've been bitten by a vampire!" McKay raised his hand to the side of his neck, where the bandage had darkened.

"McKay, there are over a thousand species of bats _on Earth_ and most of them eat bugs. Or fruit. Bats really have an undeserved bad reputation," John finished.

"Thank you, Mr. Animal Planet," the frantic man snarked. "I know bats also suck blood. I don't feel good. I may have rabies."

"This is not Earth. And this is not a bat," John replied calmly. It was actually worse. When he'd rolled the beast over the claws became visible. Not the long, finger-like framework that made up a bat's wing, but retractable claws. Cranial and facial features had some look of fox-like bat, but more of an everyday, average house cat. About six pounds of efficient killer.

"So, it's a bat-cat," Ford announced after the examination.

John rose slowly to his feet. "Do we need to name it?"

"We should have waited for morning and daylight!" McKay was tapping keys on his tablet and still finding time to panic. "We wouldn't have to deal with bat-cats in daylight!"

"There's something worse in the day," John stated evenly.

"What? How could there be something worse?" McKay paled even more when John gave him a deadpan stare.

"These things hunt in packs," John explained, "to bring down something larger. They probably make do with small vermin." John studied McKay. The neck bandage was soaked; the clotting agent was having little effect. McKay was pale yet flushed, and his breathing was uneven. It was not due to panic.

Weir had told John to pick his team. Ford: no explanation required. Teyla: because it was a good idea to use local knowledge. And the way John saw it, an expert was a necessity when tracing or accessing Ancient technology. He'd brought McKay along to see how the scientist would react on his first real field mission. John just hoped his decision wasn't going to get the man killed.

John checked his watch. The SGC had a protocol. In Atlantis they were still gawking like kids and trying to figure out how things worked. John knew he could rely on Bates for security and 'by the book' but each trip through the Gate would have to be decided on an individual basis, not a standard. This mission had been rushed because a prize was possibly near at hand. It was supposed to be a very short, look-see trip. How long would Weir wait before trying to contact them? Or before sending help? It didn't matter; they couldn't wait.

McKay was working on his tablet. "I'm not getting any signal I can tap into. Accessing this equipment quite literally will require hard-wiring it. And I can't guarantee a workable interface."

John signaled to Ford to begin collecting the supplies from all four teammates, including tac vests. "McKay, will these creatures be affected by our radios?"

"Do I look like Bela Lugosi? I am not an expert on everything, even though it may seem like it."

John ignored the outburst. He look at Ford. "Radio silence."

"Radios, sir?"

"How did these guys detect us? How do they find prey?"

Ford asked, "Don't bats have radar or sonar or something?"

McKay snorted but continued tapping keys on his tablet.

"Or something," John agreed. "Some bats on Earth have heat sensors, but it's so hot here, I'm not sure heat sensing would work. And these guys came from a distance, so I don't think heat is a factor. Could they have heard the Gate?"

"They obviously have incredible night-vision," Ford stated as he finished laying out their weapons and ammunition.

"That doesn't explain what attracted them in the first place." John assessed the collection. Handguns, extra clips, P90s, extra magazines, C4. Considering how many creatures there were, the inventory seemed meager for a siege.

"Maybe it's a mix of everything. You know, hearing and heat and radar and night vision. Like Super Bats," Ford suggested.

John wasn't really listening. The LSD showed another group of beasts at a distance but definitely on the way.

McKay looked up from his screen. "How long will we have to wait until Atlantis sends help? I'm hungry."

John tossed him an energy bar. "We can't wait. And I don't want them to send help."

"Why can't they send help?" McKay chewed as he asked.

"What kind of help will they send, Rodney?" John canted his head to indicate the increasing noise outside. "The next team will walk right into that." He zipped up his tac vest.

"Wait a minute." McKay shook his head and frowned. He was having difficulty concentrating. "Wait! You can't go out there! If they'll attack the next team, then they'll attack you!" The man was glassy-eyed. He'd forgotten the energy bar.

"Which is why we need a diversion," John responded logically. And it had to be sooner, rather than later ~ before the bat-cats started looking for ways to get in through airvents.

"We don't have any more flash-bangs, sir."

"Don't think we'll need 'em. You hear that?" John gestured to the ferocious growling outside their shelter. "They're not coming after us, they're feeding on the dead. The smell of blood has created a feeding frenzy. We just need to make sure there's enough to keep 'em all at the table. I slip away while they're occupied, run to the Gate, and I'll be back before they're ready for dessert." He infused an it's-as-simple-as-that intonation. McKay hadn't said a word, he just feverishly followed the conversation.

Ford said quietly, "An explosion will damage the DHD."

John nodded. "I have one chance to tell Atlantis what's goin' on and just hope they get the message straight." He removed the flashlight from his P90 and handed over the weapon.

"Sir? You'll need this!"

"If the plan doesn't work, Lieutenant," John said solemnly, "a P90 isn't going to save me. You can hold out until help arrives. Stay here. Look after Teyla and McKay. That's an order." He looked long at Ford, then nodded once. "Let's do this."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

With Ford's help John shoved the door open bit by bit, far enough that the lieutenant could aim and fire for maximum effect. As soon as the frenzy was underway John left the safety of the ATA room. He stayed close to the wall, keeping an eye on the snarling, moving, dark mass comprised of indistinguishable feasting creatures. The details of what was happening could not be seen, but the sounds were unmistakable; the vicious growls of territorial disputes were frequent and rising in volume.

When he had put distance between himself and the fury John broke into an all-out run. He knew he didn't have much time; there was no way to be certain how long it would take for the bat-cats at the low end of the hierarchy to look elsewhere after they were elbowed from the banquet. From a distance he could still hear the ongoing sounds of the primal competition.

Sweaty and out of breath John jogged up the platform steps. He swept the P90 light up across the fallen columns and surveyed the situation. Even the most experienced pilot would require a certain space for the Jumper to clear the Gate and then to go vertical to clear the ruins. There was no way to remove the obstruction without the fallout crushing the DHD. John considered literally every angle and was resigned to destroying the dialing device. He placed the C4 for the most effective explosion and hurried to the DHD to contact Atlantis.

As he dialed the address John considered the situation. Best-case scenario, the bat-cats were so busy feeding they wouldn't care the Gate had been activated. Next-best scenario, by the time the beasts arrived he'd be in position to detonate the charge and the creatures would have sensory overload from the Puddle and would leave him alone. Worst-case, they'd get there before the wormhole established, and without the shimmering light, he'd be a target. John noted the distant growls were lessening.

John tapped the final icon. Above the sound of dialing he recognized the swoosh of flight and snick of claws landing on tile ~ creatures were already arriving. John turned off his light and ducked beside the pedestal, counting the chevrons, one by one, as they took an eternity to lock. More beasts were probably on the way ~ attracted to the sound of activation and wanting to investigate, or, the food was nearly gone, which meant all the beasts would arrive shortly, looking for the next feast. John heard more bat-cats sail into the area and plop to the ground.

The wormhole bloomed into being. Creatures froze in a disoriented fashion, half-blinded and partially mesmerized by the rippling light. John slid slowly to the ground to begin a careful belly-crawl. To be invisible he needed to blend in with the blue glare. By literally keeping a low profile he hoped to cast no shadow that might draw attention as he made his way to a safe distance outside the C4 blast zone. It was difficult to breathe as he moved, awkward to whisper. "Atlantis! This is Sheppard!" In addition to being visually impaired by the undulating light, John trusted the bat-cats were also muddled enough to ignore his soft words. "We need a Jumper and a med unit! Do you read?!" he puffed quietly, inching forward, away from the Gate.

"Major Sheppard, what's happening? ...John!"

Weir's tinny voice sounded like a shout in John's ear. A sudden weight on his back forced breath from his lungs ~ he'd been detected. Claws dug into his shoulder. John rolled to dislodge the beast, which only dug in deeper and vocalized the intent not to be removed. Rising to his feet while stretching his arm back over his head to pull the bat-cat from his vest, John shouted as he ran, "Jumper only! Extraction team and medical! ASAP!" John managed a firm grip on the creature's arm. He yanked, but the animal latched onto John's ear, sinking in teeth. John howled in pain and reached for his knife. A second creature landed, finding a toehold in the vest, then clamping onto John's forearm with a deep bite. A third hit John's shoulder and secured a firm position by grabbing tufts of hair. John dug into his vest pocket for the C4 detonator as he fell to his knees. He thought he heard shouting before dark silence.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Elizabeth Weir had turned from her conversation with Peter Grodin at the sound of the Gate's activation. She'd taken the few steps to the balcony, crossed her arms and waited for each chevron to light. Her heart was pounding ~ they could actually be on the trail to discovering the history of the Ancients. The shield was in place, the Gate detail in position. The kawoosh rushed forward and withdrew into a vertical wall. Elizabeth waited, then looked at Grodin in inquiry. He shook his head ~ no IDC.

"Atlantis! This is Sheppard!" The voice was hushed, breathless, urgent. "We need a Jumper and a med unit! Do you read?!"

"Major Sheppard, what's happening? ...John!"

A sharp grunt and painful hisses were accompanied by cursing and feral growling. "Jumper only! Extraction team and medical! ASAP!" A tormented scream preceded shouting and gunfire. An explosion echoed in the room. The wormhole collapsed.

"What just happened?! Dial the Gate!" Shock had held Elizabeth still for only a moment. She addressed a technician working at one of the Gate consoles. "Contact Major Clift and Sergeant Bates. They know their personnel and can determine who is best for the team Major Sheppard requested. Tell Dr. Beckett to take an emergency medical team to the Jumper Bay. Explain what we know so far. And tell everyone to hurry!"

Elizabeth looked back at the newly established wormhole. "Major Sheppard, this is Weir. Do you read?" Nothing but static and a high-pitched squeal. She waited, then tried again, "Major Sheppard, do you read?" She directed Grodin, "Try the MALP. We need to see what's going on."

With a few keystrokes the video link activated. The picture was intermittent. Grainy images were at a slant, as if the MALP had stumbled to a drunken angle. Dust and debris were settling.

"He did it; there's room for the Jumper." Elizabeth held her breath and briefly closed her eyes. Was the major still alive? And his team? Whatever she might have imagined, when she chose to lead this band of extraordinary people, this was not it. Gate travel had inherent dangers ~ she'd read the mission reports at the SGC, but no one could have predicted what they'd found in Pegasus. Was the Ancients' story worth lives? Would she be sending good people to their deaths regularly? She realized she knew perhaps only twenty of them personally, another fifteen or twenty by name. Of the military she knew very few. She'd met everyone, of course, but she was now resolved to know them all, every one. She paged through her memory, trying to recall all of the faces and connect each face with a name. Her thoughts were eventually interrupted by the arrival of the rescue Jumper, which lowered into position before the active Gate and disappeared through the Puddle. "Be safe," Elizabeth whispered, and extended her thoughts to include the stranded travelers.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"How long was I out?" Before he'd opened his eyes John knew his head was on Ford's lap. The lieutenant had bandaged his ear.

"Six minutes, sir."

John checked his watch and made a note of the bandage on his aching arm. After a deep breath he slowly sat up ~ he had one helluva headache and nausea. "What happened?"

"You detonated the C4, sir."

"You disobeyed a direct order, Lieutenant."

"No, sir," Ford contradicted. "I followed Teyla's order."

"She's okay?" John's tension eased at the lieutenant's nod. He looked around. They were sitting on damp ground, against the wall outside the Gate Room. The Puddle was shimmering. "Not that I'm complaining, but why aren't we being chewed on?"

Ford pointed to the tablet lying on the grass next to his hip. "Dr. McKay programmed a 'broad spectrum signal' to interrupt the creatures' abilities. Whether it's super-hearing or some kind of radar, this should gum up the works."

"How's McKay doin'?" John peered over the broken wall. In the rippling light he could see that dead beasts littered the platform, casualties of the explosion. Live bat-cats were oddly pacing before the Gate, tilting and slowly spinning, mewling, wobbling aimlessly, oblivious to their surroundings.

"Not good, but the Jumper should be here soon. Atlantis dialed back, but McKay's signal is interfering with our radios. He said the tablet battery can't generate this signal for very long. We can't stay out here, sir. Can you walk?"

A simple request, but when John made to stand, pain lanced his calf. "Crap." He lifted his trouser leg to view the bandage.

"Sorry, sir."

John gave him a long look. "You gotta be kiddin' me."

"When I arrived you were going down under five bat-cats, sir. I fired single-pops to stop them before setting up the signal. I missed, sir. Once. It's a thru 'n' thru. Should heal nicely." The expression was serious, except for a twinkle in Ford's eye.

John shook his head and gestured for assistance to get back on his feet. "Battery's pretty low. We should hurry."

To John it felt like a three-legged race. Ford had his P90 at the ready, John had his arm over the lieutenant's shoulder, just trying to keep up while carrying McKay's tablet. They were making pretty good time, retracing their path down the hall. 'Drunken' bat-cats were circling on the floor, softly singing.

Ford pointed. "When I left to go after you they were all fighting over food," he explained softly. "I sneaked out, the same way you did. They didn't pay any attention. Then I heard some of them flying overhead. At the Gate, when I started the signal, they all turned into zombies, like this. These guys must've just dropped from the sky, like flipping a switch."

"You took a chance. They might've gone after you before you started the signal at the Gate," John observed. He was panting and was light-headed from the heat and exertion.

The lieutenant shook his head. "I had to wait. Dr. McKay didn't know if the signal might screw up the detonator."

John was monitoring the tablet's battery level. When he looked back at the hallway he noticed a seemingly unending number of bat-cats in the shadows, fading into the darkness. Rather than a few here and there, the two men were stepping around beasts that were circling underfoot. "Am I wrong, or are there more of these things than I remember?"

Ford reached into his pocket for the LSD. "Sir? Look at this."

The screen showed the hall ahead was thick with blinking dots. John took the detector and pressed buttons to broaden the scope. A distant blinking mass indicated another wave of bat-cats was on the way. "This is not good," John breathed. In that quiet moment of awareness the tablet beeped and went dead. The 'zombie switch' was flipped again and the beasts were suddenly alert.

Ford let go of John and started firing on the run, at the closest targets, purposely trying to make a bloody mess that would attract other beasts. John ran as best he could, in a gimpy hop-skip gait like a peg-leg pirate. He shoved the LSD into his vest and keyed his earbud. "Teyla! Get ready to open the door!"

It was a mad dash to safety. Ford paused to insert a new magazine. John fired his sidearm, strobing his flashlight to disorient his marks. Quick-fire single shots. Objective: to create a carcass pile suitable for a feeding free-for-all. A bat-cat launched from the ground and sailed onto Ford's head. The lieutenant leaned sidewise so that his cap, weighed down with beast, slipped from his head. After a single-pop he leaned over to reclaim his hat.

John was sliding his back against the wall as he fired, nearing the door where he hoped Teyla was prepared to let them in. He inserted a new clip and recommenced firing. "Ford! C'mon!"

Ford was maintaining a perimeter, backing toward the door. John yelled, "Teyla! Open up!" and banged his fist on the wall. The door slid smoothly open. The two men backed into the room, firing their weapons until the door slid closed. The sound of their distressed breathing was met with the scrapes of the bat-cats at the door and the escalating furor of the food fight.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

John hobbled over to the console and leaned against it to take some weight off his bad leg. "How's he doin'?" The question was for Teyla, but he was looking down at McKay, who lay on the floor. His head rested on a rolled-up vest and a second vest was being used as a blanket to cover him. They were all sweating, but McKay was absolutely grey. He was breathing fast, shivering, and had vomited before losing consciousness.

"The wound at his neck is still bleeding. I cannot make it stop. He has a bad fever," Teyla added.

Ford returned from an inspection of the room. "No signs of any kind of intrusion. They're all eating, I guess. For now."

John nodded at the information. "How'd you get the door to move so easily?" he asked Teyla. He was trying to regulate his breathing in short bursts to help control nausea.

"Dr. McKay." Teyla walked over to the door control. The panel was open with loose wires exposed. She held up a crystal. "He told me what to do once he redirected power."

John nodded again. "How're you doin'?" She had a real goose egg on her forehead. The side of her face was bruised and abraded by sliding down the wall. Her arms were scratched.

"My head aches and the scratches feel on fire."

"I hear you," John smiled. The bullet injury hurt, but every scratch and bite on his arms and legs burned. He reached up to touch the bandage at his ear and found it to be soaked. The side of his neck and shirt collar were tacky as was the bandage on his arm. His hair was stiff with dried blood. "I hope Beckett's bringing a hefty dose of aspirin."

"Is Carson here?" McKay's voice was little-boy. He blinked and looked up at John. "I'm going to die, right?" He slipped back into unconsciousness before John could answer.

John checked his watch ~ twenty minutes to ready the extraction and medical teams, which meant rescue was on site, but without knowing the situation on the ground, rescue would not initiate contact. How many more bat-cats had descended on the area? How would the creatures react en masse to a radio signal? And how long would it take a novice Jumper pilot to navigate amid such a throng, not to mention in the very tight quarters? "Hang in there, McKay," John urged softly.

John limped to the door and slowly sank to the floor. His back was to the wall, a P90 on his lap. He pulled the LSD from his vest and tightened the scope. Several dots were on top of them. John slowly shifted his gaze upward at the light patter of movement overhead, then looked at his watch again. He set about regulating his breathing and closed his eyes.

Ford dropped to his haunches next to John. "Do you think a whole bunch of scientists can produce a modern propellant for reloads?" the lieutenant asked. He swept up the shell casings and jostled them in the palm of his hand.

John said dryly, "I'd hate to have to depend on black powder."

"It has its uses," the weapons expert allowed, "but we should be able to update at least to cordite, maybe smokeless powder."

"A bunch of brilliant scientists could probably manage that," John agreed tiredly. "You wanna be in charge?"

"Sir?"

John liked Ford. He'd been open and friendly back on Earth and he hadn't changed since arriving in Pegasus. John had asked him to be on the team because the kid had his back on the hiveship. And the lieutenant knew exactly what had happened with Sumner. John believed the relative smoothness of the transfer of command had been due to Ford, who could answer any questions anyone might have; he'd eased much of the transition for John. There were probably a few holdouts, more due to John's leadership style than any blame attached to Sumner's death. John wasn't 'by the book', but their situation wasn't something one would find in any book. The flip of a coin had brought him here. As a latecomer and outsider his role initially was the tolerated 'resident gene'. Now his rank had placed him in charge.

Ford was enthusiastically applying himself to the assigned task. "We'll need slings to catch the casings. It should be easy to find planets with the chemicals we want. Do you think there's anyone advanced enough we can trade for actual ammo?"

John held up a finger for silence. "Hear that? P90 fire." He keyed his earbud. "Markham, this is Sheppard. Do you read?"

"Yessir! We have you on the sensors, but this is slow going. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of these...things. And now they're going crazy! I'm not sure how we'll get you out. They're everywhere, sir. When we open the hatch, they pour in."

"When you're in position, send out a few flares; they can't see in the light. Then maintain a perimeter for the medics."

Beckett inserted, "How're ye doin', Major?"

"A bit worse for wear, but McKay really needs your help."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Elizabeth Weir stood outside the infirmary. She had come for a personal update on the team. Despite receiving positive reports thus far, presenting a calm mien was not easy ~ she had been present when the Jumper returned. Lieutenant Ford and Teyla had seemed to have only minor injuries while every visible inch of Major Sheppard had been covered in marks, cuts, bruises, dirt and blood. Elizabeth surmised there were further injuries anywhere not protected by his vest, including head wounds that made his hair messier than usual. His ear had still been oozing and the side of his neck had glistened dark red. But the major had been able to walk. Rodney was another matter ~ he had received medical treatment while inside the Jumper and an emergency team had worked on him all the way to the infirmary.

Two missions, less than a week apart, and they'd nearly lost someone both times. What could they have done differently? Could they minimize the danger of off-world missions? Elizabeth straightened her back and entered the infirmary.

Carson Beckett was making notes on a tablet. As Elizabeth approached she glanced at the patients beyond the privacy curtain. Lieutenant Ford sat in a chair at the foot of Rodney's bed, the middle bed of three. Connected to various tubes and monitors the scientist looked small and fragile. Conversation among the other three teammates was quiet and good-natured.

"Hello, Elizabeth." Beckett glanced up. "I'm glad ye're here. I have the current blood results." He studied her face and smiled. "No need to worry. Lieutenant Ford, quite literally, came through with hardly a scratch. He's only here to keep everyone company. Teyla has some scratches in addition to a minor concussion. I'm holding her for observation. I'm holding Major Sheppard as well. He has severe scratches, plus bites ~ the one on his ear required stitches ~ and a bullet wound."

"Bullet wound?"

"As I understand it, there was a wee error in marksmanship on the part of Lieutenant Ford. It doesna matter," the doctor hurried to dismiss the topic. "What is interesting is why Rodney's condition was so much worse than the others'."

Elizabeth followed quietly as the doctor led her nearer the three patients. They were still at a distance not to include the teammates in their conversation, but at a point where she could observe the bandages and minor first-aid applications.

"They all remarked the scratches were more bothersome than the usual skin irritation of normal cuts," Beckett stated. "Somewhat painful, but not medically serious. The scratches were thoroughly cleaned and I gave them all some light pain medication, vitamins, and something to prevent infection. The real interest is in the bites. The creatures secrete a toxin in their saliva."

"The claws have some kind of effect but the bite is more serious than the scratches," Elizabeth clarified.

"Aye. The saliva toxin produces several reactions," the Scot lectured, "including nausea and respiratory difficulty, but its main purpose is anticoagulation. Rodney was bitten on the shoulder and neck. One bite actually tapped the jugular."

The major moaned and rolled his eyes toward the unconscious occupant of the middle bed. "Actual blood suckers. Don't tell him."

Elizabeth stepped closer to the row of beds. Ford rose from his seat but she smiled and waved him back down to his chair. "How do you feel, Major, Teyla?"

"I'm good. The shower pretty much did it for me," Sheppard replied, then raised his hand to cover a yawn.

"I, too, am well, Dr. Weir," Teyla nodded.

Beckett continued his lecture. "Major Sheppard's system was able to handle the toxin from the bites on his ear and arm."

Sheppard shrugged. "A little sick to my stomach."

"Rodney, however," the doctor continued, "had a more direct and larger dose of the toxin. He's responding well to a regimen of clotting agent and anti-venom."

"So, their bite with the anti-coagulant makes the prey's blood flow more freely for easier access," Elizabeth restated slowly.

"Don't tell him," Sheppard ordered. "We're talkin' Rodney McKay and vampire bats. No way that discussion goes well."

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

The architecture and the furniture arrangement in the debriefing room were meant to facilitate a round-table discussion, but wherever Weir sat automatically signified the head of the debate.

"Okay, what do we know?" Weir opened the meeting after acknowledging the teammates and Sergeant Bates.

After three days in the infirmary, the last two days spent ignoring the advice of his exasperated doctor by working on the computer, Rodney McKay was back in fighting form. He snorted. "What we know is I almost died on Ancient Planet Sauna in order to learn how not to use geothermal power to run a city."

Bates asked, "Could we use it to run just the shield?"

McKay raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You do realize there has to be a specific geological configuration to go the geothermal route and even if we could build a geothermal plant, which we can't, considering the results of the Lantean Super-Charged Pompeii Model, I don't think making the planet all but uninhabitable is a good trade for running the shield," McKay replied.

"What do you mean, Rodney?" Weir wanted to know.

McKay emitted a long-suffering sigh. "Based on limited Jumper data it looks as if their attempts to tap geothermal energy opened a rift that caused tremors and brought down the facility."

"You think it was abandoned, not attacked," Weir said.

McKay nodded. "Yes, which begs the question why they left the Gate behind if they didn't intend to return to their mess."

"Explain that, please," Weir requested.

"Their ham-handedness also produced a kind of blow-hole, which directly vents to the atmosphere. According to planetary data daytime temperatures should rise to dangerous levels."

"It is already uncomfortable at night," Teyla added.

"What about equipment?" Bates re-directed. "Even if the room didn't respond to the major, can we adapt anything?"

Weir enlarged upon the topic. "If the facility is pre-ATA and that one room houses the beginning of their gene technology, a study of the site could give us a look into early Ancient science, particularly their research regarding the Wraith. Could we use that research to develop our own materiel and technology?"

"How will you do that?" McKay argued. "Bring the ATA room here, piece by piece in a Jumper, or set up a wall of Military Might in the dark to hold off an oncoming ocean of Rocky the Killer Vampire Cats? Or would you rather go in daylight, turn up the A/C, and go one on one with Not-So-Gentle Ben?! Sheppard's right. There's something worse in the day." He turned to John. "Think grizzly bear versus a horde of house cats."

Ford raised his hand. "If there's no ZPM, is it worth going back? Will pre-ZPM technology even work in Atlantis?"

McKay snapped his fingers in Ford's direction to signify agreement. "This round-robin approach to hearing everyone's opinion is all well and good, but the fact is I was nearly killed for nothing. We should have better intel before gating to planets to avoid the risk of being attacked by Bela Lugosi's mutant cat-squirrels. Traveling around the galaxy on a whim to uncover Ancient archeology is a further waste of my valuable time, which is better spent here, mapping the contents of the city, identifying unexamined equipment, accessing the Database and interpreting data to find concrete leads so we are not wasting missions on vague references found in dubious translations! We need actual assistance, not hypothetical history!" He ended on a note that left him red-faced and gasping for breath.

"Rodney! This site could tell us something of the Ancients' exploration of the Pegasus and Milky Way galaxies, their early science and culture. These are the Gate Builders. Learning about the Ancients is part of what we came here to do and what we learn could help us with our current problem." Weir looked at John, who had been silent, listening but not contributing to the informational flow. "You disagree."

"We don't have the personnel." The statement was stark. John continued earnestly, "Things have changed. We were supposed to be a scientific expedition with military escort. Come here and maybe meet the guys who built the stargates. Rub elbows with people who had the technology to fight the Goa'uld. Or hopefully find some ZPMs lying around that we could take back to Earth." He shook his head. "Instead, like you said, we opened a can of worms." He re-stated, "I opened the can of worms."

McKay had been quiet but restless, watching the play between the heads of Diplomacy and Force. "Don't beat yourself up, Major. You're not the only one with the gene. Someone would have triggered the Wraith awakening, sooner or later." Rather than being consoling, his tone reflected fatalistic gloom.

"Yeah, well, I did it. Sooner." John looked at Weir. "They're out there, feeding on humans and looking for us. And in case you don't understand, we're at war."

There was a look on McKay's face, as if he'd forgotten until that moment the true significance of the 'big picture' and that the matter under discussion was not all about him.

"All the more reason to understand the origin of the Ancients' war with the Wraith and to learn how the Ancients were initially successful in that conflict," Weir contended.

"History won't help us." John's tone was sincere. "McKay's not wrong. We're surrounded by cool stuff. The answer could be under our noses, but it'll take time to find it." He leaned forward. "Time we don't have. We have to protect this city, _now_. Protect our people and beyond that, Earth. _Now_. ZPMs, allies and intel are not gonna be found by studying what the Ancients might've been doing a million years ago." John continued with a frown, "I'm not so sure we shouldn't bury that Gate anyway. Whoever goes there is gonna be eaten by those...things or they'll be stranded without a DHD."

Weir stared steadily, assessing, silently shaping her decision.

John took a breath, pausing before laying out his argument. "I have sixty people. We're still going through gene therapy. As of now Markham is the only pilot with the gene. We'll have to train troops ~ who've never flown ~ to be Jumper pilots. Teams have to be re-assigned to have at least one gene member to go off-world or explore the city. We have to locate planets for the chemicals needed to maintain our ordnance. Sixty people. To secure the city, explore it, assist in liaisons, gather intel, procure supplies and provide escort for scientists. And that doesn't even include the day-to-day living stuff. There's not enough military or scientific personnel that we can assign researchers and a large protection detail to maintain a difficult site just to look into a record of what might've happened in the past."

"What are you proposing?"

"Focus. Formalize what we're already doing. Look for technology and information within the city. Search for references in the Database; check out any solid leads. Continue to visit planets, starting with the ones Teyla knows." Bates twitched but said nothing. The man had an ingrained lack of trust when it came to people who couldn't be properly vetted. John continued, "We need to set up a kind of neighborhood watch." He looked Weir in the eye. "Right now we're alone. We need friends."

McKay chimed in. "I'm ahead of you, Major. I've begun conferring with-" He snapped his fingers. "The Czech, the Czech."

"Doctor Zelenka," Weir prompted.

"Right. We've started selecting personnel to work in groups to search for keywords in specific banks in the Database. Our attempts so far to find anything useful to assist us in avoiding imminent death have come up short because there appears to be no discernible order or grouping within the Database, outside of a list of planets and Gate addresses."

"Could be a security measure. Each databank operates separately and has a separate encryption that–"

"Yes, thankyouverymuch, Major. Also, as you suggest-" He turned to Weir. "I was telling the major I can devise a program which, with appropriate filters and protocols, may locate an Ancient signature if there are other worlds with Ancient facilities."

"There could actually be another Ancient city," Weir mused, "with ZPMs, or even Ancients. That's good work, Rodney."

"Before you congratulate me on my brilliance," the brilliant scientist impatiently explained to the less intelligent, "if there _is_ a facility out there, to generate a signal there'd have to be power consumption, so any power supply would be severely depleted after all this time, and if, for security, said facility is not on or near a planet with a stargate, even figuring the relatively small distances involved within solar systems, it could take us days, even weeks in a puddlejumper to get there, and that's assuming the facility was not already discovered and ransacked by the Wraith. And last, considering what we know of Pegasus history, if there are Ancients still here, they've kept themselves under the Wraith radar for millennia and they're not going to help us."

"Are we certain the Ancestors did not leave items in the city to help those they hoped would find Atlantis?" Teyla asked.

"Right." McKay cocked his finger in snide agreement. "An anti-Wraith weapon just waiting to be found!" He continued irritably, "Beyond the 'wow' factor, so far I'm not too impressed with the Ancients' preparations for guests. Are there instruction manuals with the consoles? Maybe a 'Read Me First' file in the Database. No? A recipe for Wraith Removal you can translate." He acknowledged Weir. "There's always the option of sitting in our easy chairs eating popcorn while all the advanced worlds out there gear up for target practice using hiveships." McKay's voice had been steadily rising. "All of which is to say, unless a miracle beams us back to Earth, we're screwed!"

Weir ignored McKay's emotional outburst. It hadn't taken John long to recognize that the man needed to blow off steam before he could calm down enough to work.

"Okay." Weir nodded once and folded her hands. "We leave history alone for the moment and concentrate on the present. We start systematically studying the Database. I'll leave that to you and Dr. Zelenka, Rodney. We begin methodically exploring the city. Sergeant Bates, you coordinate with Dr. Grodin and Major Clift to assign teams with science and military members. The off-world teams I leave to you, Major." She began gathering up her notes. "Let's go. As Major Sheppard said, we need allies and a way to protect the city. And our combined efforts will take time." She stood, signaling the end to the meeting.

John was still sitting at the conference table after everyone else was gone. He closed his eyes, thinking of the lengthy list of what had to be done to prepare, as much as possible, for what was surely coming. He'd stepped into Sumner's shoes and it was an uneasy fit. Considering what they were up against, he didn't think even Sumner would have been comfortable in his own shoes.

There was a quiet hum at the back of John's mind. He found it...soothing. As if it somehow conveyed the sense that he was doing all the right things. John hoped that would be enough. *~*

...

Author's Note: There is a gap in the timeline after this story, since Suspicion takes places three months after their arrival, by which time they are organized and methodical and have several Gate teams going on missions (and we can assume the city is being explored and the Database is being decrypted). [In a loose way this story is connected to 'So Close', in which Rodney had worked out a program to search the galaxy for Ancient signatures.]

When I first saw SGA (episode after episode in a DVD marathon ~ something I don't recommend for a newbie, by the way) I actually initially assumed part of the reason they had returned to the planet in Thirty-Eight Minutes was to retrieve shell casings. Silly me. Then I wondered why they didn't put slings on their weapons to catch the casings and have scientists and soldiers design and develop ways to replace and maintain their arsenal. And then, after they had met the Genii, who had projectile weapons (but didn't seem to have the setup to make them), why didn't they bargain with the Genii's munitions maker to supply them, too? Or, if the Genii could make their own weapons and ammunition, why couldn't Atlantis? [It seemed strange to me that Atlantis was never really self-sufficient, even in terms of food supply ~ they should have been harvesting vegetables from numerous greenhouses throughout the city, living off what the ocean could provide, and obtaining what they could from the mainland, instead of being at the mercy of another world's harvest. How can they be in a position to help others if they are so dependent themselves? I choose to believe the city became self-sufficient and the writers just didn't mention it.]

I'm estimating 120 total Expedition members originally went through the Gate (Sheppard told Chaya Sar the inhabitants of Atlantis numbered about 200, including the Athosians), and half that number was military. The military component was probably more heavily USMC than USAF, perhaps 40:20. With Colonel Sumner in charge there would have been a couple majors under him, a handful of captains, a dozen or so lieutenants, maybe a half-dozen warrants, half-dozen master sergeants, half-dozen sergeants, and a dozen or so privates and corporals. Except for Sergeant Bates (and Ford), no one's rank was ever specified. Which means we can believe whatever we want (although Markham, if he were already a pilot, would have been at least a second lieutenant). [I think Lorne came aboard as deputy commander in S2, when Sheppard became the official military commander.]

This story started out in S3 as a back-and-forth complicated action-adventure survival whump tale with our team in a mess that was ultimately the Ancients' fault. I backed it into S1 and then the ammunition question came to mind, in addition to how people felt about Sheppard when he assumed command. And I always wondered why, in Thirty-Eight Minutes, Markham was the pilot. [I decided he needed flying lessons so soon after arrival.] So the original action-adventure was downsized and simplified to make way for other stuff. And that's how things change in the writing process.

Reference is made to 'Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There', the 1871 book by Lewis Carroll (sequel to 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' [1865]).

The 'Gentle Ben' reference is to a large Kodiak bear, the title character of a book by Walt Morey (1965). The book became a tv series in the 1960s. [I watch OLD tv shows on non-cable tv.]

A nod of inexpressible gratitude to Iuvsbruce, for just answering the phone, and listening when I need to talk. And separately, for her enthusiasm for SGA.

Feedback is always appreciated.

Thanks for reading.


End file.
